


The Strength To Light Your Way

by Onceuponadisneypotter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: This song is so beautiful, and emma has led an awful life, don't google how to defeat a boogieman you get very weird results, honestly silence is terrifying, it's time to overcome some fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 09:00:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceuponadisneypotter/pseuds/Onceuponadisneypotter
Summary: A sudden quiet fell over Storybrooke. Normally, Emma would rejoice this fact, as it didn’t happen often. It seemed like there was a new world-ending threat every single week, and, to be frank, she was getting quite tired of it. However, this silence was unnerving and definitely did not bode well.





	1. The First Verse

> _Hush Now, _

A sudden quiet fell over Storybrooke. Normally, Emma would rejoice this fact, as it didn’t happen often. It seemed like there was a new world-ending threat every single week, and, to be frank, she was getting quite tired of it. However, this silence was unnerving, somehow. It was night, and many people were sleeping, but there usually was _something _happening. Someone walking their dog late in the evening, a brawl at The Rabbit Hole, vampires roaming the street, the howling of the town’s werewolves in the distance… But tonight, there was nothing. Not even a breeze to rustle the leaves on the street. This silence that had fallen over Storybrooke like a thick blanket was not natural. And, Emma felt in her bones after she noticed she did not even hear her own footsteps, not even her own breath, that was definitely not good.

> _Don't be scared, _

Emma had, in her life, quickly learned that, although the presence of sound was scary indeed, the true _absence _of it was hair-raisingly terrifying. Sure, the sudden sound of a car alarm was startling, and the sound of people stronger than you shouting at you was scary as well. And Emma had most definitely been afraid when Elsa’s ice monster had attacked, or when the ogre had attacked, or when those flying monkeys had flown over Storybrooke screeching. But those were fleeting fears for fleeting problems, ones she could solve, or at least run away from. No, the truly scary moments were those of complete and utter silence. When men were so angry they couldn’t speak, when she hadn’t heard that fugitive come from behind to grope her, when Henry collapsed after eating that turnover, the moment before the second curse hit and she and Henry had left town, the many, many times she saw her Killian collapse before her and had to wait for precious, precious moments with her ear pressed to his chest, trying to find a heartbeat that might or might not be there. Yes, those moments were the truly scary ones. They weren’t fleeting, and she couldn’t escape them. Those moments of complete and utter silence were the ones that returned in her nightmares. And those moments were what the current state of Storybrooke reminded her of. And that, Emma realised, was not a good sign.

> _Through this tide of darkness. _

Emma had never been afraid of the dark. There were, after all, enough other, _real _things to be afraid of in this world. But when, in addition to the sudden silence, Storybrooke went completely dark, Emma was well and truly afraid. One moment she saw the quiet Main Street right in front of her eyes, the next she was completely blind. This was not just the darkness one would expect after a power cut, or when a particularly thick cloud covers the bright moon. No, it seemed like someone had transported the entirety of Storybrooke, Maine to a cave in the middle of the earth, where no natural light could ever reach. Emma could not see her hands in front of her face. Could not see anything of her own body, really. She stepped forward, but it might as well have been that she had no body anymore at all. She did not hear her footstep, nor see her leg move. ‘What the hell’ she whispered, and, immediately following that, breathed a sigh of relief as she realised she could hear her own voice, although she did not hear the sigh that followed. ‘So I can hear my own voice, just nothing else. Can’t see either.’ She concluded, speaking to herself in order to somewhat break that pressing silence. In order to, as she dared not admit to herself, confirm she was, indeed, alive and not going completely mental. Although she honestly could not be sure about that latter part. 

> _Shadows may march,_

One would think that when it is so completely and utterly dark that one cannot even see one’s own body, one could also not see someone – something – else’s body. Emma Swan soon found out that that was not true. From the corner of her eye she saw movement, a shadow in the shadows. Not necessarily a lighter colour, but not darker either. But definitely a shadow, something different, something moving. ‘Hello?’ She turned, facing the figure. ‘Who are you?’ it was too dark, too vague to perceive the identity of the thing. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t see you clearly, everything is so dark. Can you tell me who you are? I’m Emma Swan, the Sherriff.’ Not that she needed to introduce herself in this town, as everyone had a pretty good idea of who Emma Swan was. She stepped forward but stumbled over a – curb, probably? It’s not like she could see what exactly she tripped over, in all this dark. With a flick of her wrist Emma conjured a small light in her hand. Or at least, that was her intention, but nothing happened. She tried again, and again, but in vain. ‘Bloody Hell’ she whispered, taking over the curse of a certain pirate. ‘Okay, my magic doesn’t work, it’s totally dark outside and the only thing I can hear is my own voice. Okay. Stay calm. Breathe in – breathe out. Just like Archie told you.’ It was weird, however, doing these breathing exercises when she couldn’t hear her own breath at all. It also did not help that she saw the movement again. And again. And again. It seemed like an entire army of shadows had infiltrated Storybrooke, and there was nothing she could do against it. 

> _Thunders may roar, _

We have already previously established that the complete absence of sound is much more terrifying than loud noises. This, as it stands, remains true. However, the combination of both, together with a little dash of hopelessness, is enough to scare even the bravest of souls. That was why Emma, when a sudden thunderclap sounded right next to her, let out a very un-saviour-like scream. A sudden sound in silence sounds like the previously described startling car alarm, but this was different. First of all, she still couldn’t hear her own sighing or her own heartbeat or her own footsteps. Secondly, the sound seemed to have no source, but instead come from everywhere and anywhere. Not only from all around her but seemingly also from below her, where the hard asphalt under her feet did confirmed she was still standing on _something. _That did not seem to stop the sound though. The thunder – or, at least, she hoped that roaring sound was thunder – continued, rumbling and bellowing and booming right above her head. With her hands pressed against her ears, Emma carefully stepped forwards, finding her way to her parents’ house by memory.

> _But peace will soon prevail. _

She did not know how long it had been since she had started walking, but it felt like hours. Every step she took she had to take very carefully, and she only occasionally used her hands to feel around her as the thunder continued, nearly shattering her eardrums. She was lucky she still remembered where she had been when the darkness had come, and she was happy her parents lived so nearby. Eventually, she had found the building, unlocked the door in a not-so-very-legal way and slipped in. As the door closed behind her the thunder silenced, and it took Emma a while to get used to the sudden light around her. It seemed that only the streets of Storybrooke had been affected and that the houses inside were safe from whatever was going on outside. ‘Mom? Dad?!’ she shouted, her surroundings still blurry from the sudden brightness. ‘Emma!’ She heard the cheery voice of her mother reply from somewhere in the house, followed by footsteps on the stairs and a warm embrace. ‘Mom!’ And, although she did not exactly know why, Emma burst into tears.


	2. The Second Verse

> _Through our land, _

A few phone calls confirmed that all of Storybrooke was thus infected, although the darkness and thunder did not seem to have infiltrated in any houses. The sound of thunder, however, had been an Emma-only thing. Others reported hearing the scuttling of spiders’ legs, or the hissing of snakes, distant spotting laughter, the creaking and breaking of wood like a ship stuck in the Kraken’s tentacles or the sneering voice of a witch with the sound of fire in the distance. Emma’s magic had returned once she stepped inside, but the moment she crossed back over the threshold to show Snow and David what the situation was, the light she had conjured in her hand disappeared like it was a candle on top of an elephant’s birthday cake. Regina’s magic, too, had disappeared, and so had – to Regina’s great delight and his intense frustration – Rumpelstiltskin’s, once he stepped outside. Neither of them had any idea, however, who could be powerful enough to stop even the Dark One from performing magic. Nor why they were still safe inside. Or what the purpose of this villain was, anyway. There were no instances of physical hurt, and unlike many other villains that had crossed the town line it attacked all of Storybrooke rather than take revenge on one specific person. And even though every single person living in the hidden city had faced enough terrors in their lives and were slow to fear any new threats – especially after the many heroic actions of their own personal Saviour – the person, or thing, or creature, or whatever or whoever it was that was responsible for this, had managed to terrify everyone.

> _This sacred land, _

After some trouble, the darkness was not easy to navigate through, and no one knew what those shadows were up to, the Charmings, the Golds, the Mills and Granny and Ruby had managed to gather in the library. Belle had, obviously, gathered an impressive stack of books and had, together with Ruby and a knitting Granny, retreated in a corner trying to find any information about the nature of this month’s threat. Regina, Zelena and Rumple had quickly started bickering about who was to blame, whilst Killian wandered through the room picking up random books and occasionally showing something to Belle. Snow White had managed to find a flipchart easel and she and her husband were quickly penning down all known information. ‘Are you _sure _you don’t know who you pissed off?’ ‘I have lived for many years Regina, but I am _sure _this is not someone I know. If I did I would have used their powers, not pissed them off.’ The dark one snapped back. ‘Fighting isn’t going to help.’ Emma intervened before books and curses went flying. ‘Whoever it is, they are not out for revenge. Otherwise we would have faced a personal attack already. They have it out for all of Storybrooke.’ ‘Well, then they first have to get through me.’ Regina replied through gritted teeth. ‘Through _all _of us.’ Snow corrected. ‘Did we miss anything?’ She gestured to the paper, now covered in her elegant handwriting. ‘No, I think that’s it.’ Henry replied after a few seconds of silence. ‘Darkness, strange sounds specific to people’s fears, shadows-’ he gasped. ‘What is it, Henry?’ ‘Pitch!’

> _Nightmares sprite confusion, _

‘What?’ Emma said, at the same time as a soft ‘Oh no’ sounded behind her. ‘Wait, Zelena, you know this Pitch?’ ‘He tried to take over Oz once. Didn’t succeed, obviously.’ The Wicked Witch frowned. ‘Are you sure about this, Henry? During my run-in with him he did not do any of this.’ She vaguely gestured to the easel. ‘I don’t know, but this does all sound like him.’ ‘Who is Pitch?’ ‘The Boogieman.’ It was Granny who answered the confused Prince’s question, silencing all of them. ‘The Boogieman? The one you told me stories about when I was young? I thought he was just a tale to make me fall asleep.’ ‘I told you werewolves were just tales, too. No, he is all too real. Feeds on fear.’ ‘The Boogieman. Really? He’s real too?’ Emma sighed. ‘What’s his deal?’ The knitting needles stopped moving and Granny began. ‘Once upon a time, when the world was still young, the Moon was praised by all nocturnal animals, who thanked her for her beautiful light and the gorgeous night sky. They sensed Her magic and revered it, leading Her to protect those that fell into Her good graces. However, one species of diurnal animals soon grew in size, and quickly took over both day and night, creating fire, building houses, hunting all creatures they could find. But mankind, for it was them that had taken over Earth as if it was their own, did not praise the Moon for the graceful gifts She gave them. They slept through Her wonderful night, so She created Pitch to keep mankind awake. That way, they would be forced to see Her beauty. She hoped that, after introducing Pitch to the world, mankind would finally give Her the praise She deserved. And now, although the Moon has long forgiven mankind’s foolish actions, Pitch is still out there. Keeping us awake with his many tricks and tortures, feeding on the fear running in our veins. And if you do not fall asleep at night he thinks you are like him, created by the Moon, and he will come to you and take you to his lair, and you will never sleep again.’

> _But stand your ground,_

Although Henry was not sure whether the strange darkness was indeed caused by the Boogieman, his suspicions were confirmed the moment Granny’s tale ended, for the library door was thrown open by an invisible force and out of the darkness stepped a tall, strangely handsome man with pale skin, dark eyes and hair black as the night. ‘What a beautiful story, Granny.’ His voice sounded hoarse, as if he had just finished screaming at the top of his lungs, or as if beetles lived where his vocal cords belonged, or as if – Emma shuddered and shook her head, trying to get rid of the terrifying mental images the mere presence of this man conjured. ‘And Henry, aren’t you a smart little boy! Although I would expect that the _truest believer _would be a bit more familiar with my handiwork.’ Emma turned to face the voice now suddenly coming from behind her, readying her magic for an attack. ‘Oh, there’s no need for that, dear Emma Swan. Or should I say –’ the voice, again sounding from a different part of the library, suddenly changed into a much familiar one. ‘Emma Cassidy.’ A bang sounded as Rumpelstiltskin dropped his cane, in shock at hearing the voice of his son once more. ‘Yes,’ the voice continued, luckily reverted back to its original tone. ‘I know our greatest worries, your deepest fears. Oh, the fears of the beloved Saviour, the product of True Love, hmmm. Your fears are the most delicious ones I have ever tasted. You, Emma Swan, fear that Neal will once again lay your claim on you. You fear that your new love will leave you, as everyone else has. You fear that Henry will realise you are a bad mother who didn’t even care enough to keep him. You fear your parents find you a disappointing daughter, like all those people at the orphanage that chose some other, better child over you did. You fear you are unfit to save a town, let alone rule a kingdom. Nobody wants a scaredy-cat for a Queen. You don’t know anything about being a royal, you’re a failure, an imposter, a –’ ‘Don’t listen to him, Emma. You’re an amazing daughter and we are so proud of you, right, Charming?’ ‘Yes. You’re so much better than we had ever imagined you could be.’ The soft voices of her parents, filled with love and hope and care snapped Emma out of her trance, and with one swift movement a ball of light hurled towards the source of the voice. ‘Missed me! It was an honour meeting you, and I cannot wait until fear has consumed you so much that the Saviour is no more. Good luck finding a way to defeat me, I hope you find one before it’s too late!’ With a slam the library doors closed again, leaving behind only the faint echo of a cackling laugh.

> _Until you've found, _

‘There must be something we can do. Anything. We can’t continue shuffling in the dark like this, and nobody has had a proper night’s sleep in a week.’ Emma sighed as she downed her sixth cup of coffee of the day, even though it was only eleven o’clock. ‘Our magic doesn’t work when we get too close, and so far we have not yet found any light capable of penetrating that darkness. I am mostly just grateful that there is still light inside houses.’ The mayor replied. ‘Yeah, but for how long?’ ‘What do you mean, Zelena?’ ‘Oh, come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.’ ‘What have I not noticed?’ ‘The darkness. It’s spreading. It used to stay right outside of the threshold, but now it covers half the doormat.’ Zelena gestured at the door where, indeed, a small half-circle of darkness had spread out into the diner they had all gathered in. ‘It spreads faster every day.’ ‘So that is what Pitch meant with “before it’s too late”.’ Emma whispered. ‘I’m sure we’ll find a way to stop the darkness. We always defeat the villains. Good always wins.’ Her ever-hopeful mother replied. ‘We must be overlooking something. Darkness, moon, nightmares, feeds on fear…’ the blonde downed another cup of coffee and tried to steady her shaking hands. ‘Feeds on fear… Feeds on fear…’ ‘What have you got, love? I know that face, it usually means a great idea is coming.’ ‘Feeds on fear. Killian, what if it has nothing to feed on?’ ‘It will leave! Swan, you’re a genius!’ Regina, however, did not share the pirate’s enthusiasm. ‘And just how are you planning on eliminating fear?’ ‘When I was little, I had a lot of nightmares. The lady in the orphanage, she told me that…’ Emma hesitated and bit her lip. ‘It’s probably stupid, and she said it just to get rid of me, but – She said that things will only scare you if you let them, and that even if you believe something is scary that doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it.’ ‘That sounds like utter nonsense.’ ‘Well, Regina, do you have a better idea?’

> _The strength to light your way._

Regina did, in fact, not have a better idea, so they worked with the one they got. After some protests from her parents (‘You can’t go out there, it’s way too dangerous!’) Emma gathered her courage and stepped out of the diner, into the overwhelming darkness beyond. The moment her feet crossed the threshold it was as if she had tied a blindfold in front of her eyes and put on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. In the corners of her eyes she saw the shadows move again, and in the silence her mind drifted back to all the horrors she had faced in her relatively short life. Holding her breath hiding from the bullies in the orphanage, the potential parents ignoring her in favour of a younger, better child, the minute it took for her pregnancy test to turn positive, the time she had left Cleo Fox to bleed to death in that shady alleyway… Her life seemed to be surrounded by intense and overwhelming silence. But Emma was done fearing it. Done running away from it. Done letting anyone but her decide her destiny. So she breathed in – out – in, and with a flick of her wrist turned the darkness covering every inch of Storybrooke in a beautiful, shining light.


End file.
